Prayer of the Refugee
by Astrum Ululatum
Summary: Songfic. A take on how the twins were brought into the Autobot forces and why Sunstreaker can be so bitter at times.


**A/N: don't know what made me think of this…but the idea came to me at, like, midnight (like many of my ideas, oddly enough) while listening to the Rise Against album I'd just downloaded onto my iPod. I've been toying with the idea ever since and I finally decided to write it down.**

**Now it's been sitting on my computer's desktop for some time now…I've been unsure of whether or not to post it…see, it's a songfic and I never quite imagined myself as the one to write a songfic so…I'd really like your input on this one!**

**Disclaimer: Transformers belongs to Hasbro and the song is Prayer Of The Refugee by Rise Against. Not mine.**

Prayer Of The Refugee

_Warm yourself by the fire, son,_

_And the morning will come soon._

_I'll tell you stories of a better time,_

_In a place that we once knew._

_- _

The weary search team –Jazz, Prowl, Ironhide, and Ratchet– ushered the two rescued bots into the rec room of the sleepy Autobot base on Cybertron. These two rescued bots –twins, in fact– allowed themselves to be herded for there was no point in resisting or putting up a fuss, all that they had once known was gone.

The one called Sideswipe dropped himself onto a couch, quietly accepting the energon cube offered to him by the sympathetic medic. Sunstreaker sank down next to him, but he ignored the medic's offering. He didn't need their sympathy, he didn't want it.

-

_Before we packed our bags_

_And left all this behind us in the dust,_

_We had a place that we could call home,_

_And a life no one could touch._

_- _

His life had been perfect! He had been an artist, people had spoken highly of his work, and it had been _cherished_ even. But now it was gone; in the short space of a single night, everything he had known had been blown away before his own optics. In the space of one night, his entire city –his _home_– had been utterly annihilated. And with no trace of mercy or compassion from its destroyers.

His studio, filled with countless masterpieces and works in progress, was now a pile of burnt scraps along with the pitiful remains of his home. Dust. Everything he had known, everything he had _loved_, was merely a heap of dust and debris.

Why? Why had those rotten Decepticons chosen to attack _his_ home? Didn't they have any other, more _important_ cities to terrorize? Why?

Sunstreaker hung his head and a hand immediately fell upon his shoulder. Jazz. The saboteur was offering his sympathy. Sunstreaker didn't _want_ his sympathy! He didn't _need_ it!

-

_Don't hold me up now,_

_I can stand my own ground,_

_I don't need your help now,_

_You won't let me down, down, down!_

_- _

He could take care of himself! He didn't need anyone's condolences! Angrily, he shook off the smaller bot's hand and turned his face away from Jazz, glaring hatefully at the wall on the opposite side of the room. He needed no sorrow or sympathy; it was useless, it wouldn't bring back all that he had lost. It wouldn't bring back his artwork, it wouldn't bring his home…it wouldn't bring back his _life_.

-

_Don't hold me up now,_

_I can stand my own ground,_

_I don't need your help now,_

_You won't let me down, down, down!_

_Down!_

_- _

Primus, that was all he asked for, that was all he wanted. His _life_ back, just as it had been before the fighting had begun and before the destruction had come about. Before the _war_.

-

_We are the angry and the desperate,_

_The hungry, and the cold,_

_We are the ones who kept quiet,_

_And always did what we were told._

_- _

The emotion welling up inside the golden twin wasn't something he was use to. He had once been so happy and carefree, but the war was slowly turning him bitter. Sideswipe knew it, too; he had done all he could to bring the old Sunstreaker back but to no avail. The Sunstreaker he had once known was lost and gone forever, the artist he had known was now an empty shell filled with hatred and anger.

The war was tearing him apart.

-

_But we've been sweating while you slept so calm,_

_In the safety of your home._

_We've been pulling out the nails that hold up_

_Everything you've known._

_- _

"You okay Sunny?" asked Sideswipe uncertainly, his voice scarcely a whisper.

"Don't call me that," growled Sunstreaker. "I don't want you to call me that anymore."

The nickname brought back too many memories of everything he had once known and everyone he had once loved.

-

_Don't hold me up now,_

_I can stand my own ground,_

_I don't need your help now,_

_You won't let me down, down, down!_

_- _

"Look, man," said Jazz, "we know it's been rough…"

Sunstreaker tuned out the saboteur's words; he was offering his sympathy again and the golden twin _didn't want it_.

-

_Don't hold me up now,_

_I can stand my own ground,_

_I don't need your help now,_

_You won't let me down, down, down!_

_- _

"Leave him be, Jazz," said Prowl, his voice quiet and firm. "He needs to deal with this on his own. He'll talk when he's ready."

Jazz nodded reluctantly and stepped back to give the golden twin some room. After a moment or so, Jazz made a noise like a sigh and made his leave. Eventually, Ironhide retreated to his quarters as well, leaving only the twins, the medic, and the tactician in the eerily silent rec room.

-

_So open your eyes child,_

_Let's be on our way._

_Broken windows and ashes_

_Are guiding the way._

_- _

"If you want to talk," Ratchet said, his usual gruff demeanor nowhere in sight. "I'm willing to listen, and so is everyone else at the base."

Sideswipe managed a small smile of thanks and took a half-hearted sip of his energon.

-

_Keep quiet no longer,_

_We'll sing through the day,_

_Of the lives that we've lost,_

_And the lives we've reclaimed._

_Go!_

_- _

"I think…I'd like that…" Sideswipe managed to say. "It'd be nice to talk about it sometime…wouldn't it, Sunstreaker?"

Sunstreaker continued to glare but it was beginning to loose its bitterness and he slowly turned his head to look at his twin. Sideswipe's smile grew a little and the red twin held out his still rather full cube of energon. Sunstreaker accepted it with scarcely shown gratitude and drank deeply, he was so hungry but had been reluctant to express it. He wasn't comfortable expressing any true emotions anymore; he didn't want anyone thinking he was weak.

-

_Don't hold me up now,_

_I can stand my own ground,_

_I don't need your help now,_

_You won't let me down, down, down!_

_- _

"Yeah…talkin' would be nice, I guess…" Sunstreaker agreed huskily, handing back Sideswipe's energon. He dragged air through his intakes and glanced uncertainly at the medic and tactician, judging by their looks it was clear that they each felt some degree of pity for the brothers.

Sunstreaker scowled and sharply returned his angry glare to the opposite wall. So much for not being considered weak.

-

_Don't hold me up now,_

_I can stand my own ground,_

_I don't need your help now,_

_You won't let me down, down, down!_

_- _

"S'okay, Sunstreaker," Sideswipe assured him, "s'okay. Everything's gonna be okay."

The golden twin's glare turned to sorrow; he hoped desperately that his brother's words were the truth. He prayed that everything _would_ be okay, but Primus he just wanted his life back…he just wanted things back the way they used to be…

-

_Don't hold me up…_

_(I don't need your help; I'll stand my ground)_

_Don't hold me up…_

_(I don't need your help)_

_Don't hold me up!_

_(I don't need your help; I'll stand my ground)_

_Don't hold me up!_

_(I don't need your help; I'll stand my ground)_

_Don't hold me down, down, down, down, down!_


End file.
